


Silence

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 20:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6768427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bëor makes a start with the mysterious elf in his midst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for this week’s [silmread](http://silmread.tumblr.com/). This is my first attempt at typing up a drabble on my phone whilst out; you’ve been warned.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Silmarillion or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He looks his best when he smiles, blue eyes alight with mirth through their naivety, head tilting slightly to the side. His sun-yellow hair tumbles down his rounded shoulder, catching all the sun. His skin is smooth, pale, his ears strange but elegant, pointed at the ends. His long body looks as expensive and beautiful as his clothes.

But for all this creature’s magnificence, he doesn’t seem to understand a word that Balan says.

He stays with them anyway, walking, feather-light, amongst their tents, running silken fingers over each manufactured surface and humming lightly at their harps. This creature sings more wondrously than Balan can dream. But he understands less than the dogs and might be only a pretty shell.

Some of the others believe that. Most think him Valar, and that the innocence is a game. Balan thinks him a Man like no other and takes his delicate hand. The creature pauses in its stroking of the horse’s muzzle and turns to tilt his head and smile like he always does. The creature says something that sounds like a song in no language Balan knows. Balan mutters, “Come with me,” and feels so crude by comparison.

When he backs away from the horses, the creature follows, glancing lightly down at Balan’s coarse grip around his hands. Balan’s fingers are broader, darker, a little hairy by the knuckles. The creature is taller but still feels tiny in Balan’s grip. 

Balan guides his lovely guest through the huddle of their tents, coming to his own. It’s built for travel, for ease, and not for comfort. Balan was never a man of luxury, though the being he guides within his folds looks made to lounge in splendor.

When Balan releases his hand, the stranger walks about the small room, tentatively touching here and there and occasionally looking up to eye the sunlight straining through the makeshift ceiling. Balan watches him for a time, entranced by the graceful movements and childlike curiosity, then fetches what they came for. Balan’s people have few scrolls—the concept is relatively new. But he has them and finds one telling nothing more than an old song of flowers. He comes up behind his guest and slips the scroll into the creature’s hand, who turns to eye him with a delightfully raised brow.

Taking the being’s hand again, Balan takes him to the center and brings him down to sit cross-legged on the floor. The creature does as he’s bid and deftly unrolls the scroll. His eyes scan the untidy markings and light with new interest. He recognizes it, Balan thinks, if not the letters then the art of it. He looks at it for some time, then sets it down between them. He smiles at Balan with such warmth that Balan’s chest constricts, heart pounding, and he wonders if he’s been wrong; if this is a Vala come to bless him.

The creature points to the scroll and says a single word. Balan says, “Scroll. Writing.” Though it could be parchment, ink. Words, poem. The creature nods like he understands. Balan touches his chest and say, “Balan.”

The gorgeous creature reaches across the space between them to splay his long fingers over Balan’s heart. He repeats, “Balan,” and smiles.


End file.
